The Boy and his Ventinator
by audreyblaine
Summary: Not many seventeen year old boys have their very own Ventinator to record all of their Lily Evansfilled thoughts ... JPLE


**A/N: New story! It's in James' point of view this time, and yeah… you'll have to let me know what you think of it; it was a spur of the moment type of thing. Hopefully I'm not doing a terrible job at depicting what it's like inside a guy's mind, considering, you know, I'm not a guy. I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this, so you guys have to let me know if I should, and **_REVIEW_

_August 28th_

I cannot_ believe_ I'm writing in here.

Well, mind you, thinking in here. Mum happened to cast a pretty cool spell on this little--- notebook--- so all I have to do is think, and my thoughts'll appear on the pages.

Sounds like it could possibly be dangerous, but I'd have to say it's pretty cool.

But anyway. You'd never guess how I, James Potter, ended up with a _diary_. That's right.

A DIARY!

It happened this morning. I was still sleeping, and apparently Sirius, who lives at my house during the summer, had woken up (we share a room, by the way, in case you were getting some strange, sick notion that Sirius commonly sits watching me while I sleep, or vise-versa). And I was talking in my sleep, and apparently I said something along the lines of, "Kiss me, Lily. I'm yours forever."

I know! Me, talk in my sleep! And about Evans! I guess I can write it in here, considering it's _my_ diary (I still can't get used to that), but I've kind of had a little--- infatuation---- with Evans for the past few years, but "_I'm yours"_? Sure doesn't sound like something I'd say. Okay, not something _anyone_ would say. Ever. Times a million. Plus two.

Anyway, Sirius let out a loud string of laughter that most people would associate with an evil scientist or the like. Which woke me up. And, just to let you know, I'm a deep sleeper. So you can safely assume that Sirius was laughing pretty damn hard.

Can you imagine waking up and finding yourself staring upon your best friend, who is bright red and laughing like someone at the insane asylum? No? Well, it's not particularly pleasant, and I don't recommend that you experience it.

After Sirius had managed to stop laughing, he told me what I said. And, naturally, I was appalled. "I'm yours forever"! I mean really, who talks like that! Maybe some eighteenth century poet, but not me!

After getting over my initial shock, my reaction, of course, was to spring on Sirius and pummel him (duh).

But, off course, Mum just couldn't miss one of her last opportunities to go all '_Now James_' on me before summer ends, and she happened to pass the room while I was in mid-punch.

"_James_," she said in an annoyingly reproving voice. "_How_ many times do I have to tell you? This is not the way to treat your guests!"

I, being the clever boy I am, back off, while Sirius starts telling Mum_ why_ I was smashing him to pulp…

"'Kiss me, Lily! I'm---" he recited dramatically.

"_No_!" I had shouted. Must the whole world have to know about my momentary lapse of insanity!

"_James_," said Mum again, casting me a reproachful glance. "Go on, Sirius," she added, with a rather evil smile perched upon her evil face. Evil, evil, evil!

"Well," started Sirius (it must also be known that he was wearing a rather evil smile himself), "James paid a rather--- _loving_--- tribute to our dear old pal Lily Evans in his sleep this morning. It was rather touching, I might add," he said, wiping a mock tear out of his eyes. "You really should have been there."

They continue their disgusting conversation about my "obsession" with Evans, because, apparently, the whole world has noticed (I'm not _obsessed_, by the way).

Stopping abruptly, Mum turns towards me. "So, James," she said in a stern voice that did definitely not match her face, which was quite obviously trying to stop from laughing, "it seems to me that you need a better way to vent your feelings. Poor Sirius here doesn't need another beating the next time he witnesses you confessing your love for Ms. Evans!"

Au contraire, I think he does.

But back to the point.

"Hmm… let's see," Mum had said thoughtfully.

Sirius's eyes gleamed (evilly). "A diary!"

"Nooooo!" I had shouted.

"That sounds perfect!" said Mum, her eyes also gleaming (evilly). I swear, they're so much alike sometimes (in evil ways, of course).

Pulling out her wand, Mum conjures a notebook, and casts a spell that, she said, will record my thoughts into it when I touch it, and stop recording it once it is no longer in contact with my body.

"I think it will be an excellent way for you to vent," she had said rather enthusiastically.

"But I'm not writing in a _diary_!" I protested.

"It isn't a _diary_, James, dear," my mum had said. "More of a notebook to vent .. an .. a …"  
"A _Ventinator_!" Sirius shouted suddenly.

"Perfect!" squealed Mum, doing an odd sort of dance.

Here, I adopted a rather charming are-you-all-insane look (I've been told it's quite cute; I must take a picture and paste it in here sometime).

And now, here I am, sitting in my room, alone (Sirius and Mum wanted to give me "alone time" so I could "vent in peace").

Anyway, now I can say that I gave this "Ventinator" thing a shot. Of course I'll never use it! I'm not a diary person. Come to think of it, are there _any_ guys that are diary people? Maybe wimps like Peter, but not _me_.

Off to beat up Sirius.

Toodaloo.

**A/N:**

Review, yeah?


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